


An Hour

by MarshmallowMcGonagall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Implied Snucissa, Implied Snucius, Malfoy Manor, Plot? What Plot?, Sex, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowMcGonagall/pseuds/MarshmallowMcGonagall
Summary: The Lady of the Manor requires a helping hand.Sequel toTen Minutes.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21





	An Hour

Snape took the steps two at a time as he ascended the staircase of Malfoy Manor’s east wing. He ignored the mutterings of the portraits which were voicing their suspicions. Striding along the hallway of the second floor, he came to the open doorway of the private sitting room and rapped his knuckles on the smooth wood. Narcissa looked up from the intricately carved desk covered in rolls of parchment.

“Did you and Lucius have fun?” she asked, dipping the quill into the inkpot and adding a name to the seating plan.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Snape closed the door behind himself and walked over to the armchair on the other side of the desk. The dark green velvet drapes were closed and only a couple of lamps lit the room with the aid of the blazing fire. 

“Hmm.”

“We missed you.” He sat down, crossed his legs, and leant back against the tufted leather. There were diagrams spread out in front of Narcissa and Snape tilted his head trying to read the names. “Why am I seated beside Avery again?”

“He considers you to be riveting company.” 

“He drones on about his latest conquests from Knockturn Alley while I try not to Crucio him,” said Snape. “I fail to see how that is riveting.”

“At the dinner before last he started detailing the subtle art of “pleasuring the females” and I thought you might Avada him.” Narcissa was leafing through the sheets of parchment then gathered them together and slipped them inside a drawer. “That was quite riveting, I promise you.”

“So this is solely for your benefit, then?”

“Of course not,” she said, lightly. “Even the Dark Lord was entertained, though of course that may have been because Avery has never had a capacity for subtlety and quiet conversation, hence we all discovered he didn’t know how to pronounce “clitoris”.”

Snape swore. “I’d forgotten that. I was just astonished he knew it existed.”

Narcissa coughed gently. “Given what he was describing, I fear he has rather confused the clitoris with something else altogether.”

“Indeed.”

Narcissa’s elegant heavy robes brushed against the desk as she pushed her chair back and stood up. Snape watched how the firelight illuminated the embroidery on her bodice. He licked his lips and the corner of his mouth pulled up. His fingers lingered on his mouth as she walked towards him.

“Yes?” she said, stopping in front of him. She held out her hand and he pulled her gently down onto his lap. Her skirts swished against each other and she smoothed them down as he put an arm around her waist. “Avery’s methods on your mind?”

“You think I’d be so cruel?”

She searched his dark eyes. Withdrawing her wand and pointing it at the closed door, she watched his gaze dart to her mouth as she said, “Colloportus.” 

“Lucius thought he and the Dark Lord would be another hour or so.”

“It can’t be said the Dark Lord is without manners.” Narcissa slipped her wand away and leaned closer, one hand resting against the buttons on Snape’s robes, her other hand going to his cheek. “He knows the house-elves will be ready to serve dinner at seven.”

“How foolish of me.” Snape’s lips brushed Narcissa’s. “Here I was thinking Lucius was giving me time to make up for earlier.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

His low laugh was all she needed to press her lips to his. He deepened the kiss and his hand which had been resting on her thigh began to drift lower. His fingers sought each layer of silk and petticoats until her skirts were gathered on her thighs, the bulkiness of her bunched robes pressing against her bodice.

He stroked her bare legs, and as he trailed his fingertips up her soft thigh, her lips were soon on his again and he found lace beneath his touch. 

“You call that underwear?” he asked, pushing the lace aside and letting his hand rest on the soft curls which had been barely hidden by the dark fabric.

“Lucius doesn’t complain about my underwear nearly as much as you do.”

“Not when you’re in hearing distance.” His fingers slid further down and her laugh turned to a moan.

Her forehead against his, she swallowed as he drew lazy circles around her clit. She tried to speak but his touch was infuriatingly light as one of his fingertips brushed over where she was most sensitive. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“I would like you to stop teasing me.”

“Teasing you?” His fingers parted her more fully and drifted down to where she was already wet, before coming back up and returning to the lazy circles. “I wouldn’t dare.”

She drew in a deep breath and swallowed the expletives on the tip of her tongue. Taking her hand from his cheek, she fumbled with her bodice and didn’t bother trying to hide her smile when his fingers faltered. She took her other hand from him and made quicker work of undoing her robes. When the bodice finally eased from her chest, the tug of fabric hanging from her shoulders was easy to ignore when he pressed his lips to her decolletage and began teasing her clit again.

She pushed his long hair back, her fingers getting tangled, and rested her hand on his head. Each kiss brought him closer until he took one of her nipples in his mouth. At her moan, his fingers slid lower, his thumb moving to slowly rub her clit. His tongue on her nipple, his fingers slipping inside her, she leaned back against his arm around her waist. She kept a gentle pressure on his head though he needed no persuasion to keep his mouth on her breast. Her other hand went to her other breast, and she stroked her nipple with her thumb and forefinger.

She bucked her hips gently and his fingers went deeper. He knew precisely how to pleasure her. He also knew how to draw out what he could do with his fingers until her moans became an exquisite torture even for him. 

Lucius was only a little taller than Snape but there was no denying the men had different builds. Narcissa thought of her husband whose large hands suggested brute strength though she knew them capable of unfailing gentleness. Snape’s hands, however, whilst scarred suggested craftsmanship. Suggested the capability to practice magic with obscene precision. And oh how he could elicit magic from her with his slender fingers. 

She conceded that Lucius had the upper hand when it came to strength. The man had a penchant for positions which required his strong body supporting them both. Of course, it was Snape’s lap she would fall into afterwards. When she was present, ladies first wasn’t a suggestion, but the words both men lived by. Their mouths, cocks, hands. Her pleasure was their priority. At least, her pleasure was their priority when they weren’t determined to see how far they could draw out teasing her before she was begging them to satisfy her or threatening to hex them.

Snape’s fingers had found a slow steady rhythm of thrusting while his thumb stroked and circled her clit. He released her nipple when she panted his name. She reached down so her hand was on his elbow and she pushed down, keeping his hand against her, his fingers deep inside her. He arched an eyebrow and searched her blue eyes.

“Please,” she said.

He brought his mouth to hers, her lips parted, and he deepened the kiss. He withdrew from her and his wet fingers traced over her thigh. She pressed herself against him and her breasts brushed against the fabric covered buttons on his robes. Breaking the kiss, his hand slipped under her legs and he lifted her up. He rose from the armchair and set her down on the expanse of leather before getting down on his knees, sinking into the deep pile of the white carpet in front of her. Rearranging her skirts was a joint effort, then she was pulling him closer as she spread her legs and rested them over each arm of the chair. His fingers returned to teasing her and she kept his mouth occupied with hers. The man’s tongue was so often sharp but she reveled in being one of the two who knew how much pleasure he could bring with it. 

Reaching for her wand, she barely took her lips from his as she summoned a vial from her dressing table in the bedroom next door. Her wand away, she reached down between their bodies and unstoppered the vial. He took his fingers from her and stroked the back of her hand. She found his mouth and paused to indulge in his kiss. She nudged his hand and he positioned his palm under the vial. She tipped the intricately blown blue glass for a moment and a thick potion, with a sheen like her pearl necklace, poured into his hand. She righted the vial and whimpered when he brought the cool liquid into her. Twice more she tipped the vial and he brought the potion to where she wanted him, then he spread what was in his palm all over the rest of his hand. She stoppered the vial and dropped it beside her on the seat. She took his head in her hands, her fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed her breast. 

One of his hands on her soft curls, his thumb stroked circles around her clit. With his other, he brought two fingers just inside her. After a few minutes in slid the tip of a third, followed after a time by a fourth. He had no intention of pushing her, she would take more of him when she was ready. 

The air hit her nipple when he pulled away and she whimpered. He moved to her other breast, taking her nipple in his mouth, and she closed her eyes. Her body was awash with pleasure which was building at a deliciously slow pace as he penetrated her. She recognised the movement of his hand and she drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he brought his thumb inside her. She knew there was still a way to go before she had what she wanted, what she knew he loved being the only one to give her.

She rocked her hips. His thumb across her clit, his hand in her, each breath she inhaled and exhaled. Everything was slow. Years of ease and unwavering trust in each touch. The pressure increased as he pressed further into her and a low moan escaped her as she stretched around him. She knew the biggest part of him was still to come and she grasped his hair as the anticipation raced through her. Forcing herself to let go of him, she fumbled for the vial. Unstoppering it, she reached down between them, her hand brushing against him. When she was where she needed to be, she tipped the vial slowly. The glass warmed by being beside her, there was no shock as the potion met her body where his hand was. The vial stoppered, she took his head in her hands again.

He released her nipple and rested his cheek against her chest. There was a particular kind of pleasure in eliciting what he could from her when they were like this. When they needed to be so in tune with each other. He was waiting for her, waiting for when she knew she was ready. When she whispered his name, he moved deeper and she took him inside her. Her high pitched moan filled the room and he lifted his head. She met his gaze, her lips parted, and he searched her eyes. She nodded, and with more deep breaths, he was wrist-deep, the cuff of his robes against her.

She had all of him and she had no words. She knew she didn’t need them. His gaze on hers, his thumb still slow on her clit, she panted as he brought her closer. The build so slow and so deep, she didn’t know how her body could contain the rising tide of pleasure. Then came the point of no return. Where she knew her climax was near and even though it felt like it might shatter her into pieces, she wanted nothing more than to come. She said his name, whimpering with each breath. Gentle movements even slower than before wrought a greater tension in her. Eyes locked on each other, her fingers pressing into him, her breathing sped up. Desperate moans fell from her lips. Then tension was tearing through her muscles, the pleasure swelling to encompass her entire body, and she couldn’t look away from him. His deep breaths, his jaw tense against her hands, then the slightest parting of his lips. He kept coaxing whimpers from her with the lightest touch which sent shudders through her, chasing her climax. She swallowed and gasped as her whole body surrendered once again to him. 

His hand in her, his other resting on her soft curls, he didn’t move as she caught her breath. She still had his head in her hands and her grip was slowly loosening. Several minutes passed of simply watching her bask in the bliss he had brought her. Her skin flushed almost as deep a red as her smudged lipstick, her bodice hanging open, the heat of her body around him. He basked in her. She stroked his cheeks then nodded. She drew in deep breaths, and with each slow exhale, he slowly eased himself from her, pausing when she groaned at small ripples of pleasure. 

With both his hands against her, she pulled him closer and brought her lips to his for a brief kiss. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, standing up.

She closed her eyes and made a contented sound.

He went through to the bedroom and into the obnoxiously large en suite, flexing his hand to try and shake off the ache in his fingers. There were exquisite bottles and jars of perfumes and potions on the marble counter and a crystal chandelier hung above the bath. Snape tried not to consider how many Galleons the diamond earrings left by the gold framed mirror cost. He washed his hands and cleaned the cuff of his robes. Taking a washcloth from the deep shelves which housed an always startling range of towels, he made a start on cleaning the traces of Narcissa’s red lipstick from his skin. He ran his hand through his hair, sorted his trousers, and stretched his shoulders.

She hadn’t moved an inch, though her skin was considerably closer to her usual paleness. Opening her eyes, she smiled like a kneazle who had got the cream.

He glanced at the ornate carriage clock sitting on the mantelpiece. “The Lady of the Manor is meant to be hosting dinner shortly.”

“I suppose I must,” she said. “Help me up, Severus.”

He came over and took her hands in his. Slowly she lifted her legs from over each arm of the chair. He was always impressed by how she managed to keep her stilettos on during these occasions. When she stood up, she stumbled and fell into his arms. There was a rush as her skirts cascaded back down towards the floor.

His lips by her ear, he asked with quiet concern, “Are you okay?”

“My thighs are protesting,” she said. “But the rest of me is wonderful.”

He kissed her cheek and took his arms from around her waist. She let her arms rest on his shoulders as he did up her bodice, taking care to do it with the precision she expected. 

“How’s the hard-on?” she teased.

Still focused on the bodice, he laughed and pressed a piece of delicate fabric back where it was meant to be. “Believe it or not, Cissa, I can’t say it’s bothering me considering what caused it.” He stroked her waist and met her gaze, a small smile playing on his lips.

She stole a kiss, then said, “I need to powder my nose.”

“Obviously.” 

She laughed and picked up the vial from the armchair before heading towards the bedroom. In the en suite, she charmed her skirts to be smooth again and sorted out her lipstick. Her chignon needed only a little attention then she returned to the sitting room and unlocked the door. Narcissa took Snape’s proffered arm and allowed herself to be escorted through the Manor. They were still bickering about seating plans when Lucius greeted them in the foyer.


End file.
